


slow dancing in the dark

by singularitory



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Developing Friendships, First Meetings, M/M, One Shot, Soft Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, enjoy mwah, i literally have no idea what to tag for this, lapslock, mark kinda struggling its fine whats new
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-22
Updated: 2019-02-22
Packaged: 2019-11-03 15:33:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17880428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/singularitory/pseuds/singularitory
Summary: mark finally escapes the academy & meets a peculiar boy.





	slow dancing in the dark

**Author's Note:**

> yo,,,,, so this is very loosely based off of the umbrella academy & is inspired by slow dancing in the dark by joji. i hiGHly recommend u watch the show and listen to the song, purely for ur own enjoyment bc theyre both fantastic.
> 
> anyways enjoy this random ass drabble i just spontaneously wrote during my rewatch of umbrella academy yaeahagsgjnap

the fresh air rushes into mark’s lungs, as he runs and runs and runs. as far from that hell hole as possible.

the day is young, as is mark. he turned sixteen last week, along with his brothers and sister.

he wonders when he’ll see them again. if he’ll see them again.

renjun. jaemin. jeno. xuxi. yerim.

his steps falter, causing him to almost trip, as he remembers chaeyoung. her death was utterly brutal. mark can still see himself at fourteen years old, scrubbing blood from under his fingernails. yerim’s screams still echo in his ears at night, alongside the usual ghosts.

glancing to the left, he sees chae running alongside him, smiling reassuringly.

she’s the pleasant one.

maybe she can feel the freedom too. the freedom that is thrumming through mark’s entire body, blood pumping in his ears loudly. his heart feels ready to burst, pounding so quickly and erratically.

the sunlight scares away the darkness, peels the shadows away from mark’s eyes. he can see, he can breathe. for once.

 _“_ you aren’t there anymore,” chaeyoung laughs beside him, expression alight with an odd sort of joy. mark didn’t know the dead could be more joyful than the living.

mark smiles back. “i know, sis.”

but he can remember. and sometimes his mind traps him there again, dad be damned. the cracked walls, the completely absence of light in the tomb, the voices screaming at him from every side. (the never truly leave though.)

it haunts mark. maybe the darkness will never leave him.

maybe he’ll never know.

he does, however, know that just because he leaves the academy, doesn’t mean the ghosts leave him.

the sun crawls to sleep, and the moon shines dully against the midnight sky.

he paces around an empty alleyway, hands tightly gripping the straps of his backpack.

night. it’s actually night, and mark has nowhere to go.

he can’t go back to the academy, but he can’t stay here. they’ll peel his mind open, layer by layer. scrapping away at every piece of his skull.

he’s not strong enough. dad was right.

_mark.mark.mark.mark._

the whispers begin. he can’t tell where they’re coming from, who they’re coming from. they get louder. and louder, continuously.

shaky hands raising to cover his ears, he curls inward, trying desperately to make the voices leave. he just wants them to stop, craves the silence to where his entire body aches with unadulterated fear.

he can’t.

suddenly, warm hands are clasped over his, and a sweet, unfamiliar voice rings in his ears, barely audible over the ghosts screaming despairingly in his mind.

“hey, hey, hey. can you hear me? are you okay?” the voice asks worriedly. or at least that’s what mark thinks he heard. he doesn’t know, can hardly think.

the hands shake him, and mark momentarily understands the pain of being a soda can. his eyes snap open. he can’t remember when he closed them. he’s so, so cold.

large, multicolored eyes - one hazelnut, one deep ocean blue - stare back into his, wide and doe-like. mark flinches back, mind ripping itself back into reality.

his head pounds, and he can feel his entire body trembling. maybe it’ll never stop. he wishes he didn’t care.

the boy crouching in front of him, blinks slowly as if slightly dazed. “are you okay?” he repeats, slowly. his voice reminds mark of soft mornings and honey, sweet and soft. with a twinge of a nasally undertone.

the boy with a smooth, honey voice and warm, caramel skin intertwines his hands with mark’s and pulls them to their feet. there’s barely space between them, and mark can feel his palms sweating.

he hopes the other boy can’t feel the nervousness mark is practically radiating.

“come on. if you stay out here, you’ll get sick in the rain,” he whispers, a smallsmile at his lips. mark wasn’t aware the sky had begun crying.

mark glances around, praying chae can help him. she’s gone. fear sprints through his veins. he tugs his hands out of the others, fiddling them.

“i-i don’t know you,” he stutters, taking a step back.

the boy seems to understand, nods. “i’m donghyuck lee.”

uncertainty tickles his skull. “mark har - ” he cuts off abruptly. he’s so fucking tired of his surname defining him.

good thing dad isn’t biologically related to him. damn, he’d hate to inherit that cold, dead stare.

donghyuck’s smile seems to fill the gap the sun left when it decided to rest for the night. he blinks, right eye twinkling for a split second. mark feels lighter.

“i live near here, okay? you can wait out the storm with me, if you want.”

mark nods, wanting to escape the night. he’ll stay awake, stay here for a bit.

he doesn’t want to be trapped, doesn’t want his own mind to strangle him again. he hates it. hates himself.

 

_

 

donghyuck practically lives in a hole in the wall. it catches mark by surprise, so accustomed to the pretentious environment of the academy. his edges soften ever so slightly.

donghyuck scrambles into his little nook, an abandoned spot nestled behind the public library, flipping on a small lamp and mumbling something about tea before scrambling away with the promise of only being a few minutes.

the eeriness of the absence of his siblings begins to seep in. after living with six other kids for years, being without them feels almost unnatural.

he wishes chae would reappear.

donghyuck does instead, offering a steaming cup of chai. mark thanks him, but still eyes it suspiciously. he cautiously takes a sip after donghyuck takes one of his own.

“so how old are you?” donghyuck asks, leaning forward, elbows perched on his knees. his hair is plastered on his forehead, thanks to the rain, and his clothes are soaked to the bone, yet he’s still radiant.

mark’s, undoubtedly, a little bitter. how can donghyuck in the same state as him - well, hopefully not mentally considering mark just had a bit of a mental breakdown in the middle of a dirty alley - yet be entirely beautiful while mark looks like a fucking drowned rat?

“sixteen,” he answers, clasping and unclasping his fingers around the mug of tea.

donghyuck visibly brightens, eyes widening in a sort of childish wonder. “me too! i just turned sixteen a few days ago.”

“yeah, me too. the 17th.” mark’s not entirely sure why he felt the need to include the actual day.

shock coats the caramel skinned boy. “so is mine. weird.”

mark internally scuttles with that fact. is donghyuck special like him?

he washes away the thoughts with another sip of tea and the lull of easy conversation.

he can’t sleep that night. doesn’t want to anyways.

the soft snores leaving donghyuck’s parted, heart-shaped lips keep the voices temporarily at bay. donghyuck faces away from the lamp, body facing mark.

his features appear so fragile in sleep, face entirely youthful.

mark smiles at the alit ceiling, tugging the borrowed blanket closer to his chest and feeling warmth spread all the way to his toes.

 

_

 

a few months pass of mark staying with donghyuck.

they barely manage to get by, even going as far as occasionally stealing just to have enough money for food.

the ghosts don’t leave mark, but neither does donghyuck, allowing him to breathe easier. donghyuck’s ocean-colored, right eye shines, and a feeling of lightness glints through mark, grounding him.

one night, soft music lulls in from the library. donghyuck tugs mark to his feet, laughing lightly.

he rests his arms over mark’s shoulders, mark’s hands automatically finding donghyuck’s hips.

they sway, undeniably offbeat but both boys are utterly uncaring. they rest in the moment, allowing themselves a second where life is completely frozen. a temporary, necessary pause.

donghyuck rests his head on mark’s shoulder, the contact making mark’s skin burn. eyes drifting shut, he focuses on donghyuck’s steady breathing.

he wishes he could just stay, slow dancing in the dark.

the music eventually fades, and so does donghyuck, sleep inviting him.

mark is engulfed by drowsiness as well, so entirely exhausted that nightmares can’t even reach him.

he wakes before donghyuck, a delicate smile on his lips. he can’t remember the last time he slept so well.

“donghyuck,” he murmurs, tapping the boy.

no response.

he taps again, whispering donghyuck’s name slightly louder.

 _damn, he’s really out of it,_ mark thinks, now shaking the boy awake.

but donghyuck doesn’t wake up.

and he’s not going to.

mark shakes him harder, desperation eating him alive.

“mark, mark,” a voice cries sharply, “he’s gone. he’s not going to wake up.”

“no, no,” he rasps, voice rough, “i-i don’t understand. he’s fine, he’s - ”

“dead,” chaeyoung finishes. mark looks up, into his sister’s pity filled eyes.

anger shoots through him, as he grasps donghyuck’s lifeless body in his arms. “go away. go away. he’s fine.” his words are like knives, sharp and gleaming in the dim low of their nook.

their nook. mark and donghyuck’s. where they’re safe from the world. where mark is safe from the nightmares and the academy and the voices.

“mark - ” chaeyoung starts, trying to rest her hand on mark’s shoulder, only for it to pass directly through.

“i said go away!” he snaps, expression wild. eyes wide and crazed, arms tightly holding donghyuck’s cold body.

donghyuck is never cold. it’s not right.

it’s just not right.

mark cries then, gasps racking his body. the voices begin their whispers, clawing at his mind again.

donghyuck’s not there to help prevent them.

mark wishes he couldn’t feel.

maybe it would be easier to be numb.

that night, he sells their extra money for a small packet.

destroying his body from the inside-out, mark thinks that being numb is much easier. he ignores chae saying otherwise.

 

_

 

over a decade later, and a few slaps from chaeyoung, who he can sometimes physically manifest, mark smiles. jokes aside, sarcasm surprisingly not present.

he’s clean. his mind is focused, surprisingly enough.

and damaged. there’s no maybe for it. mark knows he’s damaged, and he’s slowly figuring out how to deal with it without the assistance of vodka and pills.

which fucking sucks, by the way.

suddenly, a familiar face blinks in front of him, eyes flashing — one hazelnut, one a calm, ocean blue. radiant, caramel-colored skin. and a smile so bright, it rivals the sun itself.

mark lets the needle rest on the record, nostalgia flooding his senses.

he smiles at donghyuck, as the ghost rests his hands on mark’s shoulders, swaying softly. forehead resting on mark’s, lips curved into a soft smile.

“it’s about time you found me, dumbass.”

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i love klaus goodnight


End file.
